


On the Rocks

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Series: Season 19 Episode Tags [2]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Established Relationship, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, Post-S19E03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 18:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12371811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: Carisi intercepted the glass the bartender brought. “Scotch on the rocks, Counselor? You trying to get drunk?” he asked, something disapproving in his voice as he tossed the drink back in a single gulp.“I should be insulted by that,” Barba said mildly, his expression not changing even as Carisi grimaced at the taste. “But it’s bourbon.”“Yeah, I got that,” Carisi rasped, setting the glass down on the bar. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you only drink whiskey of any variety on the rocks when you’re trying to get sauced.”





	On the Rocks

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired from the brief glimpse of Barba's glass at the bar in S19E03 where it sure looked like he was drinking something on the rocks. Which worried me frankly as much as anything else because Barba takes his scotch neat.
> 
> Inspired also by my own interpretation of Barba this season, and my own fears for where I see his arc going.
> 
> Thanks to AHumanFemale who provided me with the title for this.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

“Come on,” Carisi mutters under his breath before slamming the squad car’s horn. “It’s green, asshole! Green means go!”

Fin gives him a mild, if slightly furtive, glance from the passenger seat. “Rough day?” he asks.

Carisi sighs and loosens his death grip on the steering wheel. “Sorry,” he mutters. “It’s — uh, yeah, it’s been a rough day. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Fin snickers. “Guess Barba wanted to celebrate his win, right?”

Surprisingly, the joke causes Carisi’s expression to pinch slightly and he shrugs. “Something like that, anyway,” he mutters. He pauses and considers elaborating before relenting. “Actually, he wasn’t really in a celebratory mood.”

“Really?” Fin asks, shooting him a slightly concerned look. “After he kicked ass in court, I just figured…”

He trails off and Carisi shrugs again. “Well, he hasn’t been in a celebratory mood the past few nights,” he says. “Hasn’t been sleeping well, and when he doesn’t sleep well, I don’t sleep well. Besides, you shoulda seen him the other night. He was _rough_.”

If anything, Fin looks even more concerned by that. “Barba, rough?” he repeats. “What did he do, wear a tie that clashed with his pocket square?”

His attempt to lighten the conversation falls flat, as Carisi’s grip again tightens on the steering wheel. “Actually, he got drunk. The night before closing arguments, I found him sitting in the bar, jacket missing, sleeves rolled up, and about as drunk as I’ve ever seen him…”

* * *

 

“I guess I really am that predictable,” Barba said in lieu of a greeting when Carisi dropped onto the barstool next to him.

Carisi raised his eyebrows. “You texted me to meet you here." Liv had also texted Carisi to let him know where Barba was, but he chose not to mention that. "Do you not remember that?”

Barba paused, considering it, and shrugged, draining his drink and gesturing to the bartender for another. “That was two drinks ago. Two drinks ago me wanted company apparently.”

Carisi intercepted the glass the bartender brought. “Scotch on the rocks, Counselor? You trying to get drunk?” he asked, something disapproving in his voice as he tossed the drink back in a single gulp.

“I should be insulted by that,” Barba said mildly, his expression not changing even as Carisi grimaced at the taste. “But it’s bourbon.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Carisi rasped, setting the glass down on the bar. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you only drink whiskey of any variety on the rocks when you’re trying to get sauced.”

Barba rolled his eyes. “If you’re here to lecture me about my drinking habits—“

Carisi held up his hands defensively. “I’m not,” he said. “Not only do I not have a leg to stand on, but I’m not your ma, Rafael.” Barba snorted softly and Carisi lowered his hands slowly. “But I am worried about you.”

“Why?” Barba asked.

“You haven’t been sleeping well,” Carisi pointed out evenly. “This morning was the third morning in a row where I woke up and you weren’t in bed, and it was long before your alarm was set to go off.” Barba jerked an irritated shrug but Carisi continued doggedly. “And now you’re getting drunk on bourbon the night before closing arguments on what’s been a difficult case.”

Barba sighed and picked up the glass in front of him, setting it back down when he remembered it was empty. “You’re not wrong about that,” he muttered.

Carisi propped his elbow on the bar and gave Barba a careful look. "I know it's been a hard case, but from what I hear, you did amazing today. You've practically already won."

"It's not about the case," Barba said after a long moment, before signing and amending, "It's not _just_ about the case." He paused and Carisi remained silent, letting Barba work through what he wanted to say. "I thought about offering him a deal."

"What?" Carisi asked blankly. "Why? You've got the jury right where you want 'em. You proved forcible rape—"

"I already received this lecture from Liv," Barba said wryly. "Not that I don't appreciate the replay, but you can save your breath."

"Then why...?"

Barba shook his head tiredly. "I don't know," he said quietly, contemplatively. "I feel like I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Maybe I should've been offering more deals all along. Maybe I should've set my pride aside more often and settled things outside of the courtroom." His tone turned bitter. "Maybe then I'd have a conviction record worthy of a promotion."

"This is about the EADA position?" Carisi asked, frankly feeling a bit relieved that it wasn't anything to do with them and then instantly feeling guilty for entertaining that thought. "Raf, they haven't made a decision yet or else they would've—"

"I interviewed over a month ago," Barba interrupted, even his sharpness seeming hollow. "And the rumor is that they're looking outside of the Manhattan DA's office."

Carisi shook his head. "Ok," he said slowly. "Well, I mean, you weren't even sure you wanted the position, right? I mean, you said it was just a lot more bureaucratic headaches for a negligible pay raise and frankly a less nice office than yours, that it was a job for someone who wanted to be the next DA, and you don't wanna run for DA."

Barba shrugged stiffly. "I don't," he said.

"Then why—" Carisi started, but Barba cut him off before he could finish the question.

"Because where else is there for me to go?" he asked, his tone almost bleak as he stared down at the empty glass in front of him. "No other promotion that I can get, nowhere higher that I can climb. I just—" He ran a tired hand across his face. "I just need to figure out if I'm making the right decisions for my life."

Carisi nodded slowly, biting back his question of whether those right decisions included this newly rekindled thing they had. "C'mon," he said gruffly. "I'm taking you home. You need to sleep."

He turned to put his coat on but Barba caught his arm. "You know that the decisions I need to reevaluate don't include you, right?" Barba asked wryly, perceptive even when inebriated.

Carisi shrugged. "I don't want to be the thing that holds you back, Raf, or—"

Barba cut him off by pulling him close and kissing him. It was a little sloppy, as sure an indication as any that Barba was drunk, but with more heat behind it than anything Barba had said all day. "You're the only thing that's felt right in longer than I care to admit," Barba told him.

"You really are drunk," Carisi joked, but his tone was as gentle as the kiss he pressed lightly against Barba's lips. "Now c'mon. Let's settle your tab and go home."

* * *

 

So they went home.

And the next day, Barba won the case with a closing argument for the ages.

But Carisi saw Barba in his office afterwards and despite the fire and brimstone Liv had raved about seeing in court, Carisi saw none of that.

Normally after a win, particularly a hard-earned win, Barba was practically ebullient, but that day in his office he was quiet, and tired, and looking at the next case less like the next challenge for him to overcome and more like the next headache for him to endure.

"I think he's burning out," Carisi admits quietly to Fin, staring blankly ahead at the road in front of them. "And I have no idea how to help him."

Fin shoots him a look. “From what Liv said about his closing argument—” he starts, but Carisi just shakes his head.

“I know. And I’ll be jealous to the day I die that I have to read it in the court record and wasn’t able to see it live.” He shrugs, his small smile fading. “But there’s a difference between Barba’s usual fire and the last hurrah of a man at the end of his rope, you know? And I love Barba no matter what, but…”

He trails off, shaking his head again. Fin’s quiet for a long moment and Carisi sighs and runs a hand over his face before saying, “Sorry. I know my love life’s the last thing you probably want to hear about.”

Fin shrugs. “It’s better than having to hear about Rollins’ love life,” he points out evenly. “Though I’m still pretending every time you say ‘Barba’ that you’re talking about someone else because that is not a mental image I need in my life.”

Carisi laughs, but it’s a hollow version of his normal laugh, and Fin glances at him again before telling him, “Hey, pull over at that gas station there, would you? I gotta take a leak.”

“Ah, c’mon, didn’t you just go at the precinct?” Carisi complains, but he complies, steering the squad car into the gas station parking lot. Fin disappears inside and Carisi sighs before pulling his phone out and typing a quick message to Barba: _Just checking in. Hope you’re doing ok._

He’s unsurprised when Barba doesn’t respond, just huffs a sigh and leans his head back against the seat, not even bothering to look up when Fin opens the door a couple of minutes later. He doesn’t look up until Fin chucks something in his lap. “What the—” Carisi starts, scowling at first Fin, then whatever he threw at him. “Rolos?” he asks, surprised.

Fin shrugs. “Figured if they were worth stealing when you were a kid, they might cheer you up a little now.”

Carisi laughs, gentler this time, and he nods his thanks at Fin. “Thanks.” He’s quiet for a long moment, unwrapping the roll of Rolos before asking, “Did you get yourself some Jujubes?”

“Nah,” Fin says with a small smile of his own. “Couldn’t find ‘em.”

“You know,” Carisi says contemplatively, “I don’t think I’ve seen them in the store recently.” He pauses before adding, “I don’t think I’ve seen them in the stores ever, my entire life. I know my grandpa likes ‘em, though.”

“You calling me old?” Fin asks, and when Carisi just shrugs, grinning, Fin mutters, “Don’t make me turn this car around.”

“I’m the one driving!” Carisi protests, still grinning.

Fin glares at him. “Just shut up and eat your damn Rolos.”

Carisi laughs again, but it’s a real laugh now, and for at least a moment, the worry that Fin’s seen furrowing Carisi’s brow and hunching his shoulders has lifted.

 _Not a bad way to spend 79 cents_ , Fin reflects, leaning back in his seat as Carisi pulls the car out to continue towards the crime scene. _Not a bad way at all._


End file.
